Detroit Working Writers second Saturday morning critique group Front center clockwise: Angela, Roberta, Iris, Laura, Lauren, Weam, Pam |
I
met Angela two years ago through Detroit Working Writers. A new member and dynamo,
she dove headfirst into DWW’s monthly critique group. This new face in a
pint-sized body came to hear what fellow writers had to say about her work.
I then connected Angela Rochon to her
memoir titled Fatherless, and suspected
I’d met another kindred spirit.
Like my dad, Angela’s father had earned
his living barbering. The strong cord of our devotion to preserve our family
history bonded us. Above all, I heard the voice of an overcomer—a loving
daughter who praises the healing power of reconciliation.
Angela is now polishing her query
letter and proposal for Fatherless.
She’s prepared to cast her bread onto the rough waters of the traditional
publishing industry. I hope and pray some agent and house have heart and smarts
enough to say “yes” to her story.
Meanwhile, Angela drives from Algonac
to Troy the second Saturday of the month. There, she listens to her fellows’
point of view in regard to what she’s created and how to pitch it.
“I need this,” she’s said. “I’m so very
thankful.”
A retired teacher, Angela’s come to
know the solitude and discipline of the writing life. She’s learned the
necessity of mentorship into new and oftentimes unfriendly territory. Her writing
folk show up and support what matters most: tell and sell a beautiful and compelling
story.
Angela’s passion to preserve history has
expanded into her hometown of Algonac. She and husband Louis are lifers in this
charming neighborhood of canals and docks.
This is where they grew up and raised
three children. And this is where they plan to spend the remainder of their
days volunteering for the Algonac/Clay Historical Society and Maritime Museum.
It’s remarkable to see
what the group’s number of forty-some retirees has accomplished. Larry took my
husband and me on a tour of the museum where a 1949 Chris-Craft runabout is
displayed. That boat is my age, and in better shape.
“There is great value in the
process of writing a memoir, or reminiscing with family and friends. I hope my
father’s story is incentive for others to write or call to mind their own
family stories before they’re lost.”
Amen!
So, dear Reader, have you begun to recall and write
your family history? Don’t know where to start?
Think Christmas. Family ties, traditions, and
turning points. When you no longer believed in Santa, for instance.
Write as if stories depend upon you to give them life,
for they do. Don’t fret over grammar and spelling or what your family (or
anyone else) will think.
Write down the bones. Muscle, vessels, and flesh
will grow as you move the pen on paper or your fingers on the keyboard.
I promise you will be surprised at the memories
that swim up to surface and gulp fresh air. The most marvelous gift to offer those
you love.
Christmas. God with us. Our Comforter.
Blessed be the ties that bind.